Licked (L.A. Liaisons Book 1) (9 page)

No—not gorgeous. Annoying.

“So is this always what you wanted to do?” Hunter asked when I pushed his order across the table. “Open an ice cream shop?”

I set about getting the front end ready for opening the shop as I answered his questions. “Yep. My grandparents owned one in Newport, and I always thought it was the coolest thing growing up. That, and I have an insatiable sweet tooth.”

“That’d be my weakness too,” Hunter said with a wink. “Cam mentioned you were always into this style back in school.”

“What, the retro thing?”

He nodded. “And the outfits.”

“Yeah, I wasn’t the most popular kid for it, but…” I shrugged. “I mean, you like what you like. Maybe it was growing up in my grandparents’ shop that rubbed off on me, but I was just obsessed with everything from the forties, fifties, and sixties. I thought the women were beautiful and the men were so debonair. So classic. I guess it just…stuck with me.”

“I like that. The not caring what anyone else thinks.”

“Oh, I cared. You think hearing whispers in the hallway doesn’t wear on your self-confidence when you’re fifteen? It totally does. I got so upset that I made my mom take me shopping for jeans. I wore those for about a week and went home crying every single day. It just wasn’t me. Wasn’t worth it.” I clamped my mouth shut. Okay, where had all
that
come from?

Hunter’s eyes were pensive as he looked me over. “You’re different.”

“So?”

“Different looks good on you.”

I bit down hard on my lip to keep from acknowledging his compliment with a smile. “Thank you.”

He took another bite of his ice cream, and I busied myself with prepping the theme toppings for the day. But when a hard knock on the door sounded moments later, I looked up and groaned.
 

“Oh no,” I said when I saw who it was.
 

Hunter followed my gaze. “Want me to tell her you’re not open yet?”

“No.” Sighing, I made my way around the bar. “It’s my best friend Shayne’s boss. Val. Runs a matchmaking company and is a nightmare like you wouldn’t believe.”
 

I set about unlocking the door, and then opened it wide, putting a smile on my face. “Val. What brings you by?”

The woman breezed by me, all Chanel No. 5 and a fur wrap, even in the middle of July. She was a tall, broad woman with a permanent red lip, and a husky voice that would’ve kicked Kathleen Turner’s ass in a round of “Who’s got the better sex operator voice?” Though she had to be pushing fifty, there wasn’t a wrinkle to be seen anywhere. A stretched and injected piece of work, this one.

“I heard about the renovations, and I wanted to make sure there wouldn’t be any nailing going on during our mixer tomorrow. Well,” she said with a smirk, “no
unauthorized
, non-paying nailing.”

“Everything’s all set, and the crew is off tomorrow, so no need to worry.”

Val wrinkled her nose and walked over to the tarp. “What the hell do you call this? I need you to get rid of it.”

“And…do what, exactly?” I asked.

Val looked at me as if she couldn’t understand why I wasn’t saying, “Yes, ma’am, anything for you, ma’am.” She blew out a haughty breath, and then her eyes landed on Hunter. They grew bigger when she saw his face before narrowing when she caught sight of what he was wearing.
 

“You,” she said, snapping her fingers. “Please help Ryleigh understand that this isn’t going to do for my event. Trashy, not classy.”

I almost snorted. As if that woman would know classy if it walked up and whacked her on the nose with a vintage cigarette holder.
 

Hunter turned on his barstool to face Val, his face impassive. “Maybe we could find a tarp with glitter to put up for the night. How’s that sound?”

“There will be no tarps
or
glitter, unless one of my clients has a fetish for them, in which case, you can keep them stocked in the back.”

“I’m guessing a beaded curtain is out of the question too?” Hunter asked.

“Unless it’s made out of diamonds then it’s out, smartass.” Val sauntered over to Hunter, her smoky eyeliner-rimmed eyes appraising him again. “Stand up,” she said. “Up, up.”

Hunter pushed off the stool, and the look he gave me was full of
is this bitch for real?
Yes. Yes, she was.
 

“Now turn,” Val said, indicating for him to circle around so she could inspect him from all angles. Hunter sighed but did it anyway, probably of the same thought process I was—just get her the hell out already.
 

“Hmm. On second thought… I’ll be willing to forgive the eyesore in the shop if I can trade it for the eye candy standing in front of me.” Pursing her lips, she nodded, and then looked back at me. “Dress this little beefcake up in something that screams ‘God of a million instantaneous orgasms,’ and make sure he’s here by seven.” She reached past Hunter, grabbed the cherry off the top of his sundae, and popped it into her mouth before giving him one last look. Then she sashayed to the door, which I gladly held open for her, and as she walked by me, she said, “And make sure to stock extra cream.”

“ALL RIGHT, EVERYBODY, I need cocks on one side, pussycats on the other. Chop chop, now, or I’ll make you all play strip Simon Says.” Val stood at the front of Licked the next evening, dressed in an elegant crimson dress that looked out of place with the words spewing out of her mouth as she commanded the room.
 

The men and women gathered for the mixer HLS—Hook, Line, and Sinker Matchmaking Company—was holding scattered to the far sides of the room like worker bees for Queen Val. And weren’t they the cream of the crop: the men donned suits and ties; the women wore extravagant cocktail dresses and sky-high heels that had me lusting with some serious shoe envy.
 

For my part, I stayed behind the bar with Amber, who was helping with the drinks since my usual wingwoman, Zoe, was out. Unlike other matchmaking companies, Val didn’t throw down a two-drink rule, which made it a more-than-profitable night for me. In addition to the variety of mixed drinks, the special tonight was a First Base boozy shake. Guaranteed to help
some
get lucky tonight. Hey, I do my part.
 

I was telling myself not to watch the door. Not to notice that a certain someone hadn’t showed up after all, which I would certainly hear no end of from Val later. Hunter probably didn’t own anything fit for tonight’s dress code, since he lived in jeans and t-shirts. But I wasn’t thinking about that—much.

Focusing my attention back on the drink I was making, I added an extra cherry and slid it across the bar to an attractive forty-something guy who winked at me as he paid.
 

Dude. I just put a cherry in your drink. You’re not screaming overly masculine and sexy.
I mean, he could’ve gone with Cognac.

“Miss? Could I get a Cosmopolitan?”

I shook my head and pointed at the specials on the counter sign. “If you’re looking for fruity, the Red-Headed Slut is probably up your alley.”

The blond let out an exaggerated sigh and inspected her manicured nails. “Could you manage Grey Goose, because I only do top-shelf. Thanks.”

She turned her back toward me before I could explain that it was
Jäger
and not vodka in the drink. Whatever. She’d never know the difference.
 

I caught Shayne looking at me and quickly rolling her eyes from where she was planted next to Val, and I smothered a laugh. We didn’t have to say anything, and we knew—bitches were crazy.

Val clapped loudly to get everyone’s attention. “So the first thing we’re going to do this evening is—”

The jingle of someone entering the front door had Val’s mouth opening and eyes narrowing like she was about to give a lecture, but when she turned around, all that came out was, “You’re late.”
 

As the handsome man came into view, it took me a moment to realize who it was, and when recognition dawned, my jaw dropped. With his hair styled back instead of flopping across his forehead, and wearing a tailored black suit and tie, Hunter was…

Well, hell. He was kind of breathtaking, wasn’t he?

His eyes found mine, and his lips lifted in greeting. I forced myself to close my mouth.
 

As he moved past Val toward the bar, she grabbed the crook of his arm. “Where do you think you’re going, fancy pants? Move your hot ass over to the right. You can get a drink later.”

I was shocked to see Hunter without a smartass retort, and even more shocked when he did what she said. As he leaned against the wall with about twenty-five other guys, he crossed his arms and smirked at me.
 

What the hell does that look mean?

“Excuse me, could you please add some whipped cream? It tastes too liquory.” The blond was back, pushing her Red-Headed Slut my way. Considering the contents of the glass were about half gone, I doubted she’d had to force it down. Whipped cream wasn’t an ingredient in the drink, but I added a couple swirls anyway. She probably wouldn’t be getting any other cream later with that attitude. Wink wink.
 

Val had split the men and women into groups of six, three of each sex, and was walking through the room observing and popping in to make conversation until the alcohol hit and the shyness went away.

Shayne sighed as she leaned her hip on the bar. “That guy in the suspenders has already groped my arse twice. When I complained to Val, she told me he was probably just perfecting his squeeze for later.” She cut her eyes at me. “I should’ve told him to go play with hers, but he’d need four hands and gloves.”

I picked up the shot glass of her favorite, Rattlesnake, from under the bar that I’d poured a few minutes ago for when she got a break, and passed it to her. “I don’t know how you work with her. Or why. I’m convinced you’re a saint.”

“Glutton for punishment, more like.” She brushed a strand of her long, fiery red curls behind her ear, looked in Val’s direction, and then shot the ’snake. Poor thing.
 

Though Shayne was a more successful matchmaker than Val, and the true brains behind the operation, she was under the assumption she needed Val more than Val needed her. Which was the furthest thing from the truth. If you asked me, Shayne was terrified of branching out on her own. Oh, she seemed confident, what with her sweet Aussie charm and her ability to put together a couple out of the most odd pairing, but I knew the truth. And the truth was that she’d rather deal with Val and stay in her comfort zone than take a flying leap off a cliff and start her own business.
 

Hah. Like I did.
And look at the mess I’m making,
I thought, glancing at the tarp.
 

Shayne nodded at the group by the jukebox as she popped a mint in her mouth. “Isn’t that your builder?”

When I looked over to whom she was referring to, I caught Hunter staring at me, and I quickly looked away again. “He’s not
my
builder.”

“You know what I mean. What’s he doing here? He wasn’t on my list for the mixer.”

“Val orgasmed when she stopped by yesterday to complain about the renovations and saw him.” I shrugged. “Even trade.”

“Huh.” Shayne didn’t bother asking for more details about what that visit had entailed. She could probably guess them by now. “Cleans up well, doesn’t he?”

Nope. Wasn’t touching that. I was keeping my lips shut. If I didn’t, I’d launch into how good he looked when he was dirty, and then that would have me thinking of other ways he could get dirty—

“Ry?” Shayne asked.

“Yeah?”

“I said how’s Cameron?”

Yeah, Cameron—the guy you’re crazy about.
“Cameron…he’s good, I think. I got a message from him saying he’d made it to Hong Kong, so I’m sure he’s having a blast.”

“Uh huh.” Shayne raised an eyebrow before turning back to check Val’s status. She was draped all over two of the male clients, and they looked appropriately horrified. “Oh what the hell is she…fuck me, I’ll be back.”

The next half-hour passed in a blur, making drinks and tending to Val’s nagging requests: Could we change the music to something not so old-fashioned? I’m sweating like a whore in church, could you turn the air down? Way down? One thing I was actively
not
doing, though, was keeping tabs on Hunter. He’d been hopping from group to group, Shayne having organized the whole thing like a round of standing musical chairs. He was currently in a circle that included the annoying blond I’d waited on earlier, and to say she had goo-goo eyes for Hunter was an understatement. Actually, it looked like the other two girls standing by her did as well.
 

I looked him over with a more critical eye. I guessed I could see the appeal if you liked the ruggedly handsome type. The way he was giving each person one-on-one attention as if they were the only ones in the room could also be seen as a plus, I supposed. He wasn’t as tall as Cameron, but he still commanded attention, but probably because he was so bossy. The way he took control of every situation and handled it might be something other women would like.
But not me.